Veneficus
by whatsamatta
Summary: Where a man learns that not all is as it seems, and kindness can come back to reward tenfold.
1. Sector Unus

Damn

**Veneficus**

Sector Unus

By Katelynn Matta

_Damn. It. Is. Cold._ Those four words ran simultaneously through the young man's mind as he sat before the roaring fire, huddled beneath blanket upon blanket. Next to him a cat slept silently, her tail twitching contently every now and again. Honestly, if he didn't love that cat he would have recycled her long ago – good meat and warm boots were hard to come by. Outside, the shouts of soldiers and the screams of their victims echoed across the once peaceful valley.

With the cry of a woman at a sword point nearby, the man pulled his blanket closer to his numb body, eyeing the cat suspiciously. She had never been a light sleeper, yet here she was, with a war raging outside, like the dead. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her move in some time . . .

Slowly reaching forward, he had pulled out a knife, certain he would have to use it this time. She had always been his closest companion, but winter can certainly turn brother against brother; or in this case, master against cat. He had just about reached her, when she emitted a low growl, which sent his hand back in a flash.

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying, right?"

She merely opened one of her golden eyes and gazed at him. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn she was smiling, no, laughing at him. In a fit of anger, he was about to rid himself like Cain, when the flap of his tent was thrown open and an older man came in, covered from head to beard in snow. After brushing himself off, he shifted his gaze from the man, to the cat, back to the man, and again to the cat before deciding to let it rest on the man.

"Zander, we have been searching for you." His voice was deep, yet smooth, and Zander would have been intrigued, had he not been so preoccupied with what the man was doing now.

"Hey! That's my dinner!" He shouted as the man sat in front of the fire and helped himself to the rest of the bread and butter, all the while searching for something to wash it down with.

"And I thank you for sharing it with another practice-er of the fine arts. Got any ale?"

Quickly hiding what little alcohol he had left within the folds of his blanket, he vigorously shook his head.

"No, and how do you know my name?"

The man simply eyed him with a thought, then shook it away as he continued with his mission.

"Please, I am just like you, and this place reeks of the art. It has happened, and we must gather."

Zander simply nodded. He understood perfectly well what was happening now. Looking down at the cat, he shrugged.

"What do you think honey, should we humor them?"

Slowly, she opened her golden orbs, and eyed the old man with apprehension. The older man mirrored the action, then turned back to his human companion.

"What's with the cat?" He asked, knowing perfectly well the explanation.

"My familiar, Vinegar. Sweetie, say hello."

The cat intensified her stare, then turned her head and resumed what Zander could only assume was her sleeping.

"I don't know about that one, she seems a bit . . ."

"Why don't you spend the night here, we can begin the trek in the morning, seeing as it's too stormy out now, not to mention a war."

The older man nodded, and settled himself down next to the fire.

"By the way, name's Pete."

Zander sighed his greeting as he, too, maneuvered himself into a comfortable sleeping position. After a long enough time to where she knew that Zander was asleep, Vinegar slowly opened her gleaming eyes, stood, stretching her back in the typical cat way. With such grace only she could muster, she strolled over to the sleeping form of her friend, dug around in the folds of his blanket, and proceeded to pull out the bottle of alcohol. Just as casually, she dragged the drink to the sleeping form of Pete, and licked his hand very carefully.

The old man slowly opened a deep blue, wrinkled and aged eye, and took the bottle from her.

"Thanks for the spirits, Lady. Maybe they was wrong about you."

Vinegar said nothing. She simply smiled with those beautifully hypnotizing golden eyes, and glided back to Zander with an air of royal nobility. Curling up against his chest, she reverted back to her original position, moving her tail once and awhile in warm content.

Zander welcomed her beneath his arm, subconsciously stroking her soft, gray fur with love as the two slept in peace for once.

She would sleep with him tonight, because he needed as much warmth as she needed companionship.

Pete watched this exchange for a few minutes, before allowing a small chuckle to escape his lips while uncapping the drink. Taking a nice, long swig, he laughed again and fell back into a deep, dream-filled sleep.

* * *

Morning came to the sounds of screams and shouts, much like every other morning. Yet this one was different. This time, Zander and Vinegar were leaving, never to come back. The younger man looked around, and found his faithful companion beneath his arm, starring up at him as if she expected him to speak. Raising an eyebrow quizzically, he felt around inside his blanket for his bottle.

"Hey, now, what's that look – Vinegar, where's my bottle?" He asked in a slightly accusatory tone; his cat simply lifted her head up high, and made her way out of the tent after a long stretch.

"Vinegar, what the HELL DID YOU DO WITH MY BOTTLE?!" He shouted after her, to which he received no reply.

Well, there was one reply. Pete, the old man from last night, groaned in his sleep as he tossed onto his back, the bottle of alcohol becoming dislodged from his hand. It slid free, coming to a halt in front of a ring of ashes which was once the late night fire. Zander just looked from the bottle, to the man, to the bottle, to the flap of the tent, and turned red.

"VINEGAR!"

That damnable cat came sauntering through the entrance, a dead rat half her size hanging limply from her mouth. Making her way towards him, he smiled and started up another fire.

"Apology accepted." He stated, holding his hand out for the peace offering, only to find his hand remaining empty.

Shooting a nasty glare her way, he watched as she lay beside the fire, and began to open her meal. His glare intensified.

"Traitor. At least I would have shared. Now I'm going to starve." He whined, knowing perfectly well that starving was the least of his worries if what the old man said was true, and a gathering had been called. His feminine feline friend raised her eyes slowly to meet his, and he swore he saw her laughing at him again.

"Is this anyway to treat the man who took you in after he found you on the street? You were starved, near death, and would have surely become some cruel soldier's meal had not I come along. And I had the decency to share my rat with you."

She blinked once, allowed one swish of her tail, then stood and made her way to her companion – rat in tow. He simply smiled, found a long stick, and after skinning and skewering the carcass, placed it into the flames.

"What do you think, medium rare or well done?"

She purred in response to his question, watching the meat cook with loving eyes as the smell of a burning meal arose Pete from his sleep.

"Mmm, yes mummy, eggs would be lovely." He cooed in delight as Zander and Vinegar eyed each other. Then the man, then the rat charring in the flames.

Quickly, Zander pulled the meat from the fire and waved it about, putting out the licking flames that danced across the food.

"Eat as fast as you can, pretend we never had it."


	2. Sector Duos

Sector Duos

**Veneficus**

Sector Duos

By Katelynn Matta

When Pete awoke, he found the scent of cooked meat powerfully assaulting his nose. Slowly opening an eye, he found Zander and Vinegar watching him, a fire just about dead.

"What? Miss my wake up call, did I?"

Vinegar looked displeased, and in response to his question, turned and made her way out of the tent.

"Come on old man, it's time for us to go."

He casually stood, swaying in leisure towards his new, young companion.

"What's for breakfast? I smell the most wonderful meat . . ."

Zander rolled his eyes and led Pete out of the tent down the snow covered path in the direction of his birth, the City.

"You're hallucinating." Was all he said as the two men tried to catch up with the cat who seemed to have led the way.

Zander smiled at his only true companion, while Pete glanced between the two ruefully.

"So, any lucky young woman you have waiting for you at your return?"

Zander smiled and nodded slowly.

"Several, but there is only one woman who I could ever consider spending the rest of my life with. And there she is, not ten feet in front of you."

Pete shook his head at the young man's strange reply.

"So, mate, you mean to tell me that you only spend time . . . with your cat?" Zander laughed.

"Hey, I love women, I just can't be in love, you know? Too much need from them. I have several women in my wake, several more children undoubtedly, but V is the only one for me."

As if on cue, a soft voice came through the woods the two had entered, followed by a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair.

"Zander! I've come looking for you – I am ready for my training."

Pete shot Zander a look of amusement, while the young man smiled sheepishly.

"My dear Amelia, now is not the best of times, I am on a journey back to my homeland. We have been called."

She pouted her plump, cherry red lips.

"Come now, Zander, just a quick session then." Grabbing his arms, she forced him back off the path, and out of sight. Vinegar sat calmly onto the ground before him, watching where the two wondered off.

"He's been training her in the arts?" Pete asked casually as he stood opposite the gray cat. Turning her gaze towards him, it was as if she were scowling. A scream resonated in the distance, causing Pete to chuckled.

"Sounds like the only things he's training is her lungs."

The look she gave him sent chills down his spine.

_Typical Peter._ If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn he heard her speak. But that is impossible; familiars do not speak, even to their magik-users. Eying her suspiciously once again, Pete bent close to her golden eyes.

"Is it truly you then? Or just some trick of the mind?"

She scratched him softly across the nose, then turned and continued on her way. Pete sat there, dumbstruck, for what felt like an eternity, watching the figure of the cat grow smaller and smaller. That is, until Zander emerged from the shadows, looking slightly flustered, before shifting his gaze around.

"Where's Vinegar?"

Pete stood, then resumed his walking, not allowing Zander anytime for anything other than to follow.

"She decided to go on without us."

Zander nodded, knowing perfectly well that she was a cat, and cats do whatever the hell they please.

"You know, Vinegar cares for you – feel lucky."

Zander turned sharply to him, pulled from his thought rather violently.

"What is that suppose to mean?"

Pete smiled cunningly, enjoying his momentary position of power.

"Only the truly powerful users are gifted familiars – even more powerful yet are those who receive cats. You are blessed if you are sent a cat, and one who favors you."

Zander stopped. Did Pete just tell him to take care of his cat?

"Just what are you trying to tell me?" Zander asked, once again resuming his walk to catch up.

"Simply that you should be careful with her."

Pete turned to study the young man – the attractive young man. His ear-length gray/white hair was sloppy, messy, and fell over his green eyes, hiding his expression. He wasn't muscular by any means, somewhat lanky and tall. His clothes were ragged, holed and exposing his elbows and knees. True it was cold, but the way he walked and sweated, gave off the impression he was over heating. The old man chuckled.

"So, how was training?"

Zander looked at his companion sharply. Then smiled, even chuckled to himself.

"It was quite agreeable. If you must know, I am the type of man that likes to train _hard_, and he likes to train _often_. But like I said, many, many women and children – only one Vinegar."

"How did you two come across one another?"

Zander smiled at yet another memory, his eyes never leaving the road.

"It was ten years ago, when the war had just started. Little nine-year-old me wandered the streets helplessly, searching for someone who would take pity on a young orphan. I had found a rat earlier in the week, and decided that if I could find no one by the end of the day, I would have to eat it. Well, no one cared, and I had started ignorantly cooking my meal when I heard a soft mewing.

"Glancing around, I found – half buried in the snow, mind you – a small cat with grey, matted fur and dim golden eyes. She was half starved and while I figured she would make an excellent stew for next Tuesday, there was something about her . . . I couldn't bring myself to kill her. So, I shared my meal, nursed her back to what I assume is her old self, and we've been together ever since. And the fact that she increases my power like you would not believe helps her standing in my book . . ."

When the young, gray/white haired man finished his story, Pete was more convinced then ever that this was the same person he was thinking of. Suddenly, Zander stopped; causing Pete to look from his friend's transfixed eyes, to the empty patch of road which had him in this state.

_She's beautiful._ Zander thought as he eyed the young maiden who seemed to appear out of no where. Creamy pale skin greeted the eyes, covering a tall, slender figure with large breasts. She sported long, flowing hair – a pale blue white, like icicles – which was tied back in a loose yet elegant braid. Her vivid eyes sparkled gold; black eyeliner and a silver lipstick graced her sharp yet angelic-like features. She wore a playfully serious face.

Her clothing would suit for nothing less than a goddess. Two strips of glittering gold cloth barely covered her breasts as they made their way down, exposing her stomach in the shape of a v; only to connect just below her navel with a long gold skirt that stopped at her ankles. Her feet were uncovered, adorn with only a single silver ankle bracelet. She had several beaded bracelets and rings for accessories, and her forehead was adorn with a headpiece of gold coins and precious gems.

_Come to me._

She was bewitching, and Zander could not look away. Her eyes, something about her eyes. Turning to Pete, Zander was about to say something, when the corner of his eyes picked up on a shift of shadows. Moving quickly, Zander had just enough time to see . . .

Vinegar sitting patiently where the beautiful woman once stood, her tail swishing back and forth contently.

"V, where'd she go?" He asked frantically, while the cat just watched him with curiosity.

"What're you talking about? The woman that was right there!" He pointed to where Vinegar sat, an air of accusation about him. In response, Vinegar stood and arched her back, then walked away from him.

"V? Hey, V?! Vinegar! Where do you think you're going?"

She simply ignored him, and the three continued on their way towards the Capital City – to the place where several fates would be decided.

* * *

It had begun to snow in violent flurries, making it harder for the two men and the cat to see each other. The men, though, were far too stubborn to admit defeat and find shelter, letting the storm take its course. Vinegar, on the other hand, was more than willing to stop and sleep. She was a cat – and if there is one thing cats like to do, it's sleep.

Pete watched Vinegar sleep for a while, then watched Zander sleep, then watched the snow fall. Finally he turned over to Zander and poked him two or three time in the side with the fire stick.

"Wha? What the hell do you want?" He asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes in irritation.

"Zander, do you know of Lady Asaya?"

Zander looked around before keeping eye contact with the old man.

"Ye – no." He replied half heartedly. Vinegar rolled over.

"Lady Asaya is the strongest, most powerful of us all. I suppose you are too young to remember her, she ruled us from the City. Well, about ten years ago, she was accused of adultery by her lover, after which she disappeared."

Pete had a far off, dazed look on his face, directed at Vinegar. Zander lay down to sleep again.

"Do you know why we're gathering?" Pete asked after a moment of silence, causing Zander to roll over.

"Ye – no."

"It is so we may choose our next leader. Lady Asaya is gone, and we must continue."

Zander just waved him off, snoring himself into dream land, while Vinegar stood, stretched, and walked over to Pete.

_Such a shame._ Pete simply nodded, stroking her long grey coat, earning himself a purr.

"Don't worry Lady, we'll figure this out."

She mewed once, then made her way over the sleeping young man, and curled up next to him, causing Pete to smile.


	3. Sector Three

Sector Three

**Veneficus**

Sector Three

By Katelynn Matta

The city walls were an odd shade of gray, as if all the color of the world had been removed, leaving only weak shadows. The horns in the towers looked aged and unused, lacking the friendly lips of a trumpeter. There were no angels, nor welcoming statues at the gates and on the lawns – just harsh gargoyles. Darkness seeped from every corner. A hushed tone blanketed the small crowd forming in the courtyard.

As the two men and one cat joined the gathering within the castle, Zander noticed how devoid of color his surroundings were. True, it was winter, but never had he seen an area so empty and lifeless. Vinegar stood next to him in an almost defensive manner, as if she didn't trust them. She watched the other men, women, and their familiars with wary eyes while standing calmly on Zander's leg.

"Hey, V, what's up with you?" He asked when the large group was admitted into the building. There she left him and made her way down an abandoned hall.

"V? Vinegar?" He called after her.

He was about to follow, when Pete stopped him, nodding towards the door where all the others wandered. After a heavy sigh and a lingering sidelong glance, Zander shadowed the old man into the dinning hall, and took a seat among the hundreds of users.

"Attention! Attention all! Now, we have called this meeting to order so we may aptly decide upon our new ruler. Are there any nominations?"

Within moments, the room was filled with an outburst of voices, shouting who should be nominated. Zander simply watched the others viciously make their claim to the throne. Damn, it was going to be a long day.

Meanwhile, Vinegar sat regally on a desk in an abandoned room, starring into a dusty mirror, her golden eyes large. A dirty, gray-furred paw timidly reached up and stroked the glass, a clean streak following like a child . . .

The sound of breaking glass floated into the hall, gracing the ears of all present. Many stood and looked around, but only Zander excused himself from the table, and exited the room. Without even knowing where he was headed, he stopped outside a large, dark mahogany door – just in time for Vinegar to come strolling out with her head held high.

"And just what have you been doing?" he asked. She stopped to look at him only for a moment, before continuing on her trek towards the kitchen.

"Hmm, women." He muttered under his breath as he peered into the room she had just left.

There, on the floor just off the desk, was a small mirror, broken in two. After picking up the shards, Zander made his way back into the corridor, only to stop again the next door over.

"You four are those most loyal to her Lady, and are the ones most trusted with this information."

That voice was oddly familiar, and captured his interest. Bending over, he peered through the keyhole. He found the old man standing before two men, one woman and a black dog.

"And just what information would that be, Peter?" the woman asked, her dark skin glistening with fresh snow.

"Our Lady has returned." Was all he said as Vinegar jumped up onto the table the five were seated at.

"Lady Asaya, is it truly you?" one of the men asked, while the cat merely looked at him, to which he fell to his knees.

"My Lady! I knew you had never forsaken us!" he cried out as the other man and the woman stood.

"But how shall we free you?" the woman asked as the man on his feet leaned in to the cat, trying desperately to see through the spell.

"It is really quite simple. All that is required is a reversal of the transformation." The man on his feet explained in almost a monotone as the others marveled at their Lady. As they gazed at her, she kept her eyes fixed on the door, or more precisely, the keyhole.

Catching her sightlines, Pete laughed hoarsely, then made a sweeping motion with his hands.

"Come in Zander. She has made it clear she knows you are here, and wants you present."

The others looked to the door, and Zander immediately knew he had no other choice but to enter the room.

_Damn, why does this always happen to me. Stupid cat_, he thought to himself as he slowly opened the door, and sauntered into the room.

Upon his entrance, he made note of how different these people looked, especially compared to him.

The woman was without a doubt from the Far East, where all the fantastical Users come from.

Her skin was dark, tan, and held almost an olive green tint to it. Her almond, rich brown eyes tilted up in the corners, but only slightly. Her full lips were painted a luscious gold. Ebony waves escaped from the crown of beads and cold coins atop her head, stopping just above her shoulders. The hairstyle was cut slanted so the back was higher, giving her an intimidating look. As for her clothes, they were nothing more than a rogue's brown traveling trousers, boots, and a white poet's shirt, but she wore them with absolute grace. To her right was a tall and stout looking oak staff.

The man who had not fallen to his knees had a very pale complexion, as if he hardly ever stayed in the sunlight for extended periods of time. His hair matched his skin tone, light blonde, somewhat long but entirely well kept. It fell neatly over his eyes. Those eyes, which were a light grey with hints of blue, were hidden behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. His clothes consisted of a scholar's or professor's robe, black with red trimming, with black pants emerging from the bottom, and ending with a pair of black boots. He was obviously not only a scholar, but an aristocrat, one from the families higher up. Around his neck was an amulet of a dragon holding a ruby.

The man who was on his knees had quickly gotten to his feet, attempting to regain his dignity. Of the three of them, he seemed to care about his appearance the least. His long, shaggy and sloppy red hair was pulled back in a pathetic, half-assed ponytail which cascaded down to mid-neck. His skin was a light tan, as if he was born pale, but never left the out doors. His eyes were a startling yellow, holding not only a fiery determination but also humor. His clothes did not fit his tall, lean form, nor his appeared personality at all. He wore a once-white-now-stained poet shirt beneath a black vest; baggy black trousers and black boots that went to mid-calf. In his left ear he wore two silver earrings, his right bore a similar one, but also had a dangle-down silver earring with an emerald attached.

Pete, meanwhile, had changed from his transient clothes into those you would expect to see an advisor to a king wear. He wore purple robes with gold and silver trimming and black boots. He appeared to have taken a shower and shaved, for he no longer had a beard, his eyebrows were maintained, and he smelled of vanilla and lavender instead of cheap alcohol.

As for the dog, he was a large, black dog, probably a Newfoundland, with bright yellow eyes, massive paws, and an equally massive jaw. One ear flopped down to the side of his face, the other was cut off halfway down. His long fur flowed down his body, and mostly hid his eyes. His tail, like all typical Newfoundland's, was long, nearly to the point of touching the floor. But what separated this dog from all the others was that he had a light purple gem fused to his chest.

Zander immediately became aware of just how un-extravagant he was. His silver hair was still messy, falling over his eyes. His clothes were still ragged and holey, showing that he lived life on the street. However he had been given an upgrade when he entered the castle: a long brown trench coat that had seen more than a few years. Hell, it was probably his senior, but it was something to keep him warm, so he couldn't complain.

But still, he was plain compared to them.

"And just who might you be?"


	4. Sector Quattuor

Sector Quattuor

**Veneficus**

Sector Quattuor

By Katelynn Matta

"Hey, kid! I'm talkin' to you!" the red head shouted again, and it was then Zander realized that he was being spoken to, and that if he valued his life, he should answer.

"Uh, my name is Zander." He replied, bowing his head in respect.

"This is the User that has taken care of the Lady for the past ten years." Pete defended, and all the others looked to him shock, before turning their gaze back to Zander.

"So, you're the little one who restored our hope to us. Thank you."

The woman smiled, then walked over and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a gold smudge. It was then he noticed that she was about his own age.

"Interesting, very interesting. You say that you have kept her safe for the past decade, yes?" the blonde man asked expressionlessly as the three sat down, while Pete continued to stand.

"Yes."

Zander did not know these people well enough to offer any more than a yes or no answer. The old man caught on to this quickly, and smiled.

"Yet you wait till now to bring her to us. Why?" Again, the blonde man was stoic.

"Well, I didn't know who she was. Come to think of it, I still don't know who she is."

Zander smiled sheepishly as he ruffled his hair. The red haired man let his jaw drop, the woman allowed her eyes to widen, while the blonde remained unmoved.

"How can you not know who she is?!"

Zander was beginning to suspect the redhead had issues with his temper.

"Solomon, please. She is the Lady Asaya, Queen of All Users, and it is you who returned her to us." The woman smiled, motioning to the cat while speaking.

"And who are you? Not including Pete, we've met." The young man almost sneered his remark about the old man, but then his face became inquisitive.

"Of course. My name is Ishtar, Magik Warrior and Her Lady's Emissary to the East." The dark skinned woman bowed in her own introduction, then turned to the man with glasses.

"Alvis." He replied emotionlessly as he readjusted his glasses.

"Name's Solomon, the Lady's Security Chief." The red head gloated as he fingered a dagger at his side that Zander had missed.

"And I suppose I should explain myself. I am Peter, Chief Advisor to the Queen." Pete explained as he held out a hand to Vinegar. Zander was starting to assuming that was not her name.

_And I am Finegas, The Lady's Second Advisor. _Looking around, it took Zander a moment to realize that Finegas was the dog. And not only that, but Finegas, the _dog_, spoke.

"A cat who's really a Queen – why not a talking dog?" Zander mumbled more to himself than to the group, before turning to the rest with a new demeanor.

"So, where do we start?"

The most he received as a reply was a different form of confusion from every person.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Ishtar, recovering her composure, took Zander by the elbow, and led him to the chair nearest the Lady.

"Zander you know how to perform a reversal spell, correct?" she cooed into his ear, and he nodded, momentarily losing his ability to speak.

"Good, do you think you can do that for us now?"

Again, he nodded.

Vinegar leapt into his arms, sending him back a few steps, and into a previously drawn spell circle.

Even though one circle seemed to fade into another, each one was clear and precise. Zander noted that if one looked at it with your eyes squinted; you could see a bull's eye.

The four most loyal to the Queen stood just outside the last circle.

"North." Alvis articulated as he repositioned his glasses, stepping into the circle.

"Meridianus." Solomon growled as he pounced into his place.

"East." Ishtar seemed to glide into her spot, ready to begin.

_Occasus._ With two large steps, Finegas had made himself the last to enter the spell circle. Suddenly they held out their arms, palms pressing against each other without the connection of flesh.

"Vultus quondam erus, iam repossess

Orbis terrarum quondam lost, iam captus tergum

North

Meridianus

Oriens

Occasus

Suus somes eram changed

Sic change is tergum."

Zander found himself saying the spell for reversal, in Latin of course. Queen Vinegar held his eyes, and he could tell she was smiling.

All five of them continued as the intricate symbols written within each circle began to glow. The designs were a mix of every form of physical dialect, from the ancients up clear to the most recent.

The spell soon began to morph, taking on a life of its own. The letters rose from the ground, beginning to spin around the group, causing a tornado. With the spell becoming violent, Zander closed his eyes expecting to die, when it stopped.

In a momentary calm, Zander was just about to open his eyes, when he was thrown against the wall. His world was black before it could become anything else.

The next thing he knew, Zander was awakening to the sound of a man's laughter. Almost instantly he knew he was the reason for the laughter. And he knew Pete was the jerk who was laughing.

Slowly opening his eyes, he found himself starring into two golden yellow orbs.

"My . . . Lady?"


	5. Denique Sector

Denique Sector

**Veneficus**

Denique Sector

By Katelynn Matta

The hall was booming with the sound of voices shouting obscenities at each other. Some of those present had arguments so harsh, they began to throw things at each other. Looking in, one would think that was a testosterone-driven thing. Until that one would notice that the women were fighting just as much as the men.

Things were growing particularly fierce when suddenly the large doors flew open, and a young woman appeared. She was covered in a strapless forest green dress that flared at her hips. Silver arms bands adorned her upper arms, and similar bracelets rested on her wrists.

Creamy pale skin greeted the eyes, covering a tall, slender figure with large breasts. Her long, flowing hair was like living icicles, sprawling out behind her. Her vivid eyes were a sparkling gold; black eyeliner and a silver lipstick graced her sharp yet angelic-like features.

Her expression was serene.

As soon as she entered the room, the voices ceased, and everyone dropped to the knees.

"My Lady Asaya! You've returned!" one man shouted, ending the silence. A smile graced her features as she fully entered the room, the crowd parting for her as she made her way to the throne.

When she had seated herself, her right arm found itself out stretched, motioning for the six accompanying her to follow suit. Once they joined the ocean of Wizards, Zander felt like Moses parting the Red Sea.

One man his age sent him such an aw-inspired glare, that Zander had to re-think his simile. He felt like a disliked Moses parting the Red Sea.

The glare did not go unnoticed by Asaya.

"My Children, Students, and Loyal Followers. It has been quite some time since I graced these beautiful halls, and I must admit that I missed them. Now, times have changed, we are at war with the New Regime – yes, I have seen their soldiers slaughter my people.

"I have come to the conclusion that I will take a husband. Not a lover, as I chose last time, but an actual husband. And that husband shall be Zander."

_Holy. Shit._ Was all Zander could think as all went silent once more. Asaya steadily rose to her feet, holding her hand out for him. Slowly, Zander took her hand, taking his place at her side.

"Why me?" was all he could think to ask as she planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Because you were the only one who cared for me when I was a cat. And because I think your loneliness should be over in return. And finally because I never want to see you with Amelia, Sarah, Jacqueline or any other woman ever again."

He smiled at the thought.

"Hmm, Jacqueline . . ."

"Zander, don't even think it." her scorn was so mesmerizing, he couldn't stop himself from drawing her close, and capture her lips with his own.

"So, if you are Queen, does that make me King?" he asked, and it seemed the two had forgotten about the rest of the faces in the room.

"Yes."

"Which means I can get clothes that actually fit me? Keep me warm and everything?" he continued, picking at his worn and holey clothing.

"Yes."

"And so that means -"

She silenced him with her lips, answering his question as soon as they parted.

"No, Zander, you never have to eat another rat again."


End file.
